Valentine's Fever
by Meum Cerebrum Nocet
Summary: When a Valentine's Day dance sends the school into a hormone-induced frenzy, romance may just bloom in the most unlikely of people. Scorose.
1. Chapter 1:Crazy Little Thing Called Love

_**Summary: **__When a Valentine's Day dance sends the school into a hormone-induced frenzy, romance may just bloom in the most unlikely of people._

_**A/N: **__As previously stated, I am not a fan of Valentine's Day. However, I write this in the spirit of love. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything but the words on the page, and a few of the characters, belong to the extraordinary J.K. Rowling._

* * *

**Valentine's Fever**

**Chapter One**

**Crazy Little Thing Called Love**

* * *

_This thing, called love_

_I just, can't handle it_

_~Queen, Crazy Little Thing Called Love_

* * *

Love was in the air. That much was painfully obvious from the increase in couplings and public displays of affection. Even the most unobservant had made comment about it. It was always the same at this time of the year. As the cold days of January dredged on into more cold days of February, the young hormone-driven students suddenly began a crazed ritual; single individuals who had previously been completely content with their relationship status –or lack thereof- began frantically looking for a partner. Valentine's fever was in the air.

Rose could have cared less about this time of year. Her hormones weren't raging; she didn't suddenly feel a need for romantic companionship. Her biggest worry at the moment was how she would finish her three papers before the end of the week. Rose would have loved to remain oblivious to the upcoming holiday. Sadly, the crazy Valentine's fever had a firm grip on nearly the entirety of the school, and Rose was thrust into the scary and dangerous world of dating at Hogwarts…

* * *

The god awful red and pink posters appeared overnight almost as if it were the work of house elves. Rose knew that couldn't be true; -the headmistress would never have allowed it- bit she wouldn't put it past her Gryffindor contemporaries. It seemed that the female population of Gryffindor was the most affected by it. They were the ones trying to find partners with the greatest frequency and most desperation. It was a member of Gryffindor house, the exceedingly cheerful Millie Finn, which strongly advocated for a Valentine's Day dance to 'revel in the emotion of the season.'

Rose had hoped that it would only be the Gryffindors, and possibly the Hufflepuffs, who would even consider attending. When she woke up the morning of February 9, she was sorely mistaken. Even her best friends Carly and Ella –though she was beginning to question their friendship- had been swept up into the madness that completely permeated Hogwarts.

Rose was hiding away in the library, working hard on her papers. Miraculously, Valentine's fever had yet to reach the library. It appeared as those madly in love did not want to spend time with schoolwork. Rose was just happy to have an escape from the manic atmosphere in the halls.

Taking a quick break from her work, and glancing at her surroundings, Rose was pleasantly surprised to find that she was not the only one more focused on schoolwork that issues of the heart. She saw most of Ravenclaw house smattered around the library at various tables and among the stacks. Sitting at the table closest to her was the sole Syltherin in the entire library.

Scorpius Malfoy had always peaked Rose's interest. From what she'd heard about the Malfoy family, she'd expected him to be haughty, stuck up, entitled, and superior. The few times she'd interacted with him, she'd discovered her expectations were incorrect. Scorpius was shy, reserved, self-deprecating, and extremely intelligent. He was nothing like the rest of his family. It had always made Rose want to discover more; anomalies fascinated her. However, she'd never said more than a few words to him. He wasn't a priority to her.

Sitting in the library, she only gave him a fleeting thought, mused about the fact that he seemed unconcerned about love and relationships, and then returned to her work. Scorpius was a curiosity, an enigma, but of minor importance in the grand scheme of her life.

Before she could give him any further thought, banging of doors and loud, girlish squeals disrupted the sanctuary of the library. Rose sighed and turned to look for the source of the disturbance. Standing in the doorway, a smile that consumed nearly her entire face, was Rose's friend –though she was quickly becoming ex-friend material. Caroline Meyers quickly made her way through the tables filed with staring and glaring students, stopping when she reached Rose's table. She pulled out a chair, plopped down into it and stared at Rose expectantly.

"Hi, Carly, you're in a good mood today," Rose observed, giving her friend a withering look as she did do.

"Randy asked me to the dance, Rosie! Of course I'm happy!" Carly exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air and kicking her feet like a little girl. Rose rolled her eyes at her friend.

"Carly, you're in the library. Take it down a decibel or we'll get thrown out. Plus, I need to focus on these papers." Now it was Carly's turn to roll her eyes.

"You're so lame sometimes, Rose. Schoolwork is so not important right now! It's almost Valentine's Day. You should be focused on finding a special someone to spend the weekend with. Being alone on Valentine's Day is really sad."

Rose once again glared at her friend and lifted one of her large textbooks to block her out. She loved Carly to death, but her friend was so boy crazy, Rose often wondered how her brain had room for anything else. Carly was much more Gryffindor than Ravenclaw, yet somehow she ended up in the house known for with and brains. It was one of life's greatest mysteries.

"Don't ignore me when I'm trying to help you!" Carly exclaimed, her voice sounding perturbed though Rose knew she was faking it. Things rarely bothered Carly; she was very live and let live. Rose rolled her eyes at her friend, something the copper haired girl found herself doing a lot around the brunette.

The sound of a chair scrapping and sliding across the run down carpet finally pulled Rose from her book. She looked up and saw that Carly had pushed her chair back and was preparing to leave. Carly turned to Rose and gave her a sly look.

"You'll come around to my side eventually," Carly sing-songed before she turned on her heel and left the library. Rose sighed and returned to her book, attempting to remove Carly's words from her mind; she didn't need Carly's insane comments taking up space she needed for schoolwork.

* * *

Rose, like countless times before, was eventually able to loose herself completely in her work. Hours passed like minutes as she searched through the stacks, read through thick volumes, and quickly wrote out pages and pages of notes. It was in this state, focused solely on research and textbook reading, that Rose was at her happiest. She didn't need a guy as long as she had her books, at least at this point in her life.

She'd tried to explain that to Carly but the brunette had never understood it. Rose was at home amongst books; Carly was at home amongst people. Carly was wicked smart, but she detested studying and researching of any form. Once again, Rose was left wondering why the two very different girls were such good friends.

Rose was only drawn out of her study frenzy by the sound of someone nearby clearing his or her throat, loudly. Rose looked up, about to give whoever had made the disruption a piece of her mind when she met the apologetic, deep grey eyes of Scorpius Malfoy.

"Sorry to break your focus," he began, his voice soft and apologetic, "but it's time to leave. The library is closing up." He motioned to the large clock above the librarian's desk. It read 9:59. Rose had spent six hours in research mode and missed dinner. As soon as that thought registered, her stomach grumbled from hunger.

"Thanks for the heads up," she responded, a grateful smile crossing her face. He nodded a goodbye at her and then walked out of the library. Rose watched him walk away before she turned to her books and bean picking up. Once she was finished, she took a deep breath and headed out into the love infested hallways.

She weaved and dodged through the hallways, avoiding couples publically displaying their newfound affection and lonely boys looking for some companionship. All she wanted was to grab some food from the kitchens and return to her dorm room. There she'd only have four hormone-crazed girls to deal with.

* * *

Rose lay awake. It must have been at least one in the morning, yet she could not fall asleep. It was, like usual, all Carly's fault. Rose had assumed that her dorm room would be more bearable than the common room or the halls, because it would contain fewer love-crazed individuals; she'd forgotten about Carly's special ability to annoy and infuriate. When Carly put her mind to it, she could drive Rose up the wall faster and more vigorously than one hundred people.

Carly had been in special form that evening. She kept arguing the same asinine points that weren't convincing Rose in the slightest. Rose could have cared less about the social ramifications of going stag on Valentine's Day. Yet Carly continued to argue them' she even convinced Ella and their other roommates to join in on her side.

Rose had gotten so worked up and angry, and now she couldn't sleep because of it. Finally, after attempting, and failing, to fall asleep for several hours, Rose gave up on sleep for the moment. Instead, she rolled over and grabbed her book. Normally, she didn't read late at night because the light from her wand was known to disturb her roommates. Tonight, she could care less.

Her novel de jour was buried under some of the books she'd checked out of the library that day. She removed them, and as she did, a small piece of parchment fluttered to the floor.

Rose figured it was a scrap from her busy note taking that evening and bent down to pick it up. As she brought it up to her face and the wandlight, she found it was covered in writing that looked nothing like her small, loopy script. It was neat, elegant, slanted writing that she didn't recognize. Intrigued, Rose looked at it closer.

_O my love is like a red, red rose_

_That's newly sprung in June;_

_O my love is like the melody_

_That's sweetly played in tune._

_So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,_

_So deep in love am I;_

_And I will love thee still my dear_

_Till a' the seas gone dry,_

_Till a' the seas gone dry my dear,_

_And the rocks melt in the sun;_

_I will love thee still, my dear_

_While the sands o' life shall run._

_And fare thee well, my only love!_

_And fare thee well a while!_

_And I will come again my love_

_Though it were ten thousand miles_

Rose's first impression of it was that it must have been written for one of her roommates. They were all in the throws of love and were the most likely owners of the love poem. However, as Rose thought about it more, that scenario seemed less and less likely. The sheet of paper had fallen out of the middle of her stack of books. If her roommates had left it on her bedside table, it would have either been on top of the stack or beneath it. Rose would've had to acquire it at some point that afternoon in the library before she packed up her stuff.

The next mystery Rose had to solve was who, followed by why. Rose had never had anyone express even the tiniest amount of interest in her. The only people she was close to were Carly, and Ella, who were female, and her family, who were related to her. There was no male she could think of who could have wrote her a love letter.

That led Rose to the conclusion that her receiving it must have been a mistake. Someone could have left it on the table before she got there or while she was in the stacks. She could have found it on the floor by the table and mistaken it, as she had earlier, as hers. However, someone definitely hadn't meant to give it to her.

For some reason, that realization made Rose feel sad. Deciding not to dwell on the feeling or the poem, Rose grabbed her book and began to read.

* * *

_To be continued_

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Hope you liked it! Next chapter posted in a week. The poem used was written by Robert Burns and is in no way of my own creation._

_Drop me a review!_

**_Edit:_**_ A reviewer alerted me to the fact that I misrepresented the artist/ band responsible for the song Crazy Little Thing Called Love. I knew Queen was responsible for it, but an internet search produced a connection to Elvis. Guess it just goes to show you that the internet cannot be trusted for everything. :P My error has been corrected._


	2. Chapter 2: Building a Mystery

_**A/N: **__Hey! A little later than what I'd originally planned, but I was on vacation and away from the internet and my computer for all of last week. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! They were an awesome treat to come home to!_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything but the words on the page, and a few of the characters, belong to the extraordinary JKR._

* * *

**Valentine's Fever**

**Chapter Two**

**Building A Mystery**

* * *

'_Cause you're working_

_Building a mystery_

_Holding on and holding it in_

_~Sarah McLachlan, Building a Mystery_

* * *

"He's too cute!" The loud, high-pitched squeal cut through Rose's pleasant dreams and reverberated through her skull. Her brain was still muddled by sleep, but she was conscious enough to plan at least two ways she was going to kill Carly. Rose only had ten more minutes of sleep left, but the rosette valued her sleep even above her school performance. She squeezed every ounce of sleep out of every morning, and now that Carly had deprived her of it, the loud-mouthed, dark-haired girl deserved to feel excruciating pain.

"I wish my boyfriend sent me flowers. He never does anything romantic like that! Maybe we should break up," Lauren, one of Rose's other roommates commented. Gasps sounded from the other three and were instantly followed by vigorous dissuasions.

"Laur," Carly spoke above the other two, "you can break up with him if you want, but you can't do it before Valentine's Day. Being single on a day devoted to love and romance is so sad and depressing."

Even though Rose was supposed to be asleep in the minds of her roommates, she couldn't help but feel that Carly's commented was directed at her and not Lauren. Of the five Ravenclaw girls, Rose was the only one without a boyfriend. It seemed she was missing the gene that made her want to couple up; she was one of the only ones in her year to be single.

Finally, Rose figured she should start getting ready for class and rolled out of bed. She ignored her roommates, who continued excitedly discussing the romantic things their boyfriends did and their plans for Valentine's Day. Instead, Rose grabbed her clothes and locked herself in the bathroom. She could honestly say, Friday could not be over soon enough.

* * *

Rose sat in her Astronomy class, her one period free of her love-obsessed roommates. She was glad for the reprieve from boyfriend talk. However, she hadn't fully escaped the romance chatter as her classmates busily discussed the upcoming dance. Rose felt like she was an outsider in a place that had previously been her second home; she felt like she was in a small boat rocking in the ocean, fighting in vain to bail out the never-ending onslaught of water that threatened to capsize her.

"Can I sit here?" a voice asked from over her right shoulder. She looked up from her parchment and saw a nervous looking Scorpius Malfoy. Rose knew he was in the class with her, but he usually sat on the other side of the room with his friends. She quickly glanced over to the Slytherin section and saw the two Slytherin females in that class deep in conversation. Instantly, Rose knew they were swept up in the same insanity of the rest of the school.

"Of course," Rose responded, moving her bag out of the way. She hadn't really interacted with Scorpius much –they definitely weren't friends- but Rose was willing to help a fellow non-romantic, no matter what. If he wasn't going to discuss love or anything associated with it, he was welcome. However, the camaraderie provided by their shared aversion of amour was not enough to resolve the silence that fell between the two at the end of their short exchange.

Before the silence between them became overbearing and awkward, Professor Hodgekins swept into the room and began her lecture. As magical number theory was rapidly explained and discussed, Rose's worries evaporated and her sole focus became the lecture at hand.

Rose wished that the school would return to normal. There had always been love and romance in the halls of the old castle, but it had occurred only in minute dosses, affecting minimal amounts of the student body. It had never permeated this deep. Previously, people were not always discussing it, worrying about it, and focusing solely on it.

The class ended much too soon for Rose's liking. It was her last class of the day, her last reprieve from madness. Now she had no shelter to escape to, no other area to focus on and loose herself to. She would have to face her roommates and the rest of the school.

Begrudgingly, she began to pack up her books, taking extra time to postpone the inevitable. Scorpius finished his packing much before she did and whispered a goodbye before he left. Rose would have loved to be able to spend more time with Scorpius, one of her only equals in matters of the heart. However, their previous lack of communication made the option very unlikely.

She was busy imagining the intelligent, compelling conversations she could have with Scorpius, when, lost in thought as she was, she collided with something solid and sent her meticulously packed books sprawling throughout the hallway.

"Good god Rose, who has you so distracted that you ran right into me!" the loud voice of Caroline Meyers called. Rose, who had landed on the ground with the force of the collision, simply groaned at her misfortune. Of course she would run into Carly. Of course it would be while she was distracted. Of course Carly would assume that meant she was thinking about a boy and was therefore unable to function normally.

"I was thinking about my homework, Carly," Rose responded, standing up and dusting herself off before she went in search of her books. It was a lie, but Carly would not be able to take the truth as it was. Just because Rose was thinking about Scorpius did not mean she fancied him, wanted him to be her boyfriend, or anything else of that matter. Girls could think about boys for completely innocent reasons, no matter what Carly believed.

"Sure you were Rosie. I know boy-distraction when I see it. No one, not even the queen of the nerds Rosie, can get that lost in thought over schoolwork. A member of the opposite sex was definitely involved in this collision." Carly bent down to help collect some of the pieces of parchment that littered the hallway. On her return to standing, she paused, reading one of the documents. Rose, noticing the strange behavior, was instantly concerned, for her own sake.

"You okay, Carly?" Rose asked hesitantly. Carly straightened and turned to Rose, her motions robotic. The dark haired girl fixed the rosette with a death glare that sent shivers running the length of Rose's body.

"Someone has been writing you love poetry and, not only haven't you told me, but you've continued to act like you're above all of us who have found love." Carly's words were cold as ice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rose responded, her confusion not feigned.

"This," Carly responded, waving a piece of parchment in front of her face.

"Carly, that's just notes from class. Give it here so I can read it and explain it."

"Oh no, Rosie. I'm not returning this to you just yet. The others deserve to know how much of a hypocrite you are!" With that, Carly turned on her heel and darted down the hall towards the Great Hall. Rose, her books left forgotten, took off after her friend.

* * *

Rose arrived to the Great Hall significantly after her friend; Carly's love of athletics made her substantially faster than Rose and her love of books. She found Carly in the midst of the other Ravenclaw girls, their heads bent in discussion. At the sight, Rose contemplated whether or not she should forget the scrap, and leave the Great Hall. She knew it would only be postponing the inevitable, Carly and the others would eventually confront her about whatever was on that paper, but the idea of having a couple of hours reprieve was awfully appealing.

However, her decision was made for her when Ella looked up and straight at her. The usually quiet girl shot her hand up and waved at Rose, alerting the others to her presence. Rose swore under her breath and made her way to the table her roommates were seated at. Each step she took felt like she was walking through a thick, muddy bog.

"Hey Rose," Ella stated sweetly once Rose had taken her seat. Ella, no matter what the others felt or believed, would always give the benefit of the doubt and remain a steadfast and loyal friend. Rose really loved her for it.

"Hey Ella," Rose began, wondering what would happen if she just stopped there and didn't acknowledge the others. Deciding she was already in enough trouble with them, she continued on, "Carly, Laur, Gabby."

"Rose," Lauren and Gabrielle acknowledged together. Rose had never been as close to those two roommates as she was to Carly and Ella, but their greeting was almost frosty. She had been sure when Carly had run away that she wasn't truly upset; Carly rarely ever was upset. Now, she wasn't so sure. What was on that piece of parchment?

"Before you yell, at least let me read what's on that parchment," Rose spoke before the others could begin their assault. Carly thrust the paper into the rosette's face; in the movement, Rose discerned that Carly, unlike Lauren and Gabby, was not really mad at her.

Rose looked down at the paper in her hands. It was the same elegant writing that made up the poem from the night before.

_The red rose whispers of passion,_

_And the white rose breathes of love;_

_O, the red rose is a falcon_

_And the white rose is a dove._

_But I send you a cream-white rosebud_

_With a flush on its petal tips;_

_For the love that is purest and sweetest_

_Has a kiss of desire on the lips._

It was another love poem from her, for lack of a better word, secret admirer. That was why Carly had freaked out on her. The dark haired girl assumed that Rose was receiving these notes from a lover she refused to tell the others about and then continued acting like the others were stupid for their pursuits of love.

"It's not what you think it is," Rose began. She knew it would take more explaining than that, but she at least wanted to ensure her roommates would hear her out.

"Well it looks like a love poem, but if you swear its not," Carly began. She obviously only wanted to hear the story Rose was going to tell, still believing that it was from some secret lover.

"I've received two of those poems about roses in the past twenty four hours. The first one I must have got while I was in the library yesterday and I didn't discover it until late last night. I didn't think much of it at the time; I thought it must have been a mistake. But now with this poem, I must have some sort of secret admirer. They randomly appear it my books and papers. I have no idea who is leaving them for me." Rose spoke in her most innocent tone and filled her voice with pleas of understanding.

Once she finished her tale, silence enveloped the small group. Rose, unconcerned with the reactions of Lauren and Gabrielle, turned to look at Carly. The other girl was keeping her features guarded as she took in Rose's story and weighed it for truthfulness. After nearly a minute, Rose was starting to panic. Carly never took this long to make up her mind; she usually went with her gut, which only took a few seconds.

Without any warning, a smile burst across Carly's face. Rose felt her stomach drop. Nothing good every came from such a smile.

"Rosie, you have a secret admirer!" Carly sing-songed, "someone wants to take you to the dance! This is so perfect! You won't be alone on Valentine's Day, after all!"

* * *

_To be continued_

* * *

_**A/N: **__Let me know what you thought. Poem by John Boyle O'Reilly._


	3. Chapter 3: I Hope You Don't Mind

_**A/N: **__Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. Hope you like it!_

_**Disclaimer: **__Everything but the words on the page, and a few of the characters, belong to the extraordinary JKR._

* * *

**Valentine's Fever**

**Chapter Three**

**I Hope You Don't Mind**

* * *

_I hope you don't mind_

_I hope you don't mind_

_That I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is while you're in the world_

_~Elton John, Your Song_

* * *

Rose thought dealing with her love crazed friends and school would be the hardest thing about the week before Valentine's Day. She hadn't however, counted on her receiving secret-admirer poems and then having Carly discover that fact. Now, the worst part of her week was the near-constant pleas and suggestions from Carly that Rose try and figure out who was sending her the letters.

"This is perfect Rose. There is already a guy out there who obviously wants to take you to the dance. You don't have to do the legwork and try and find one. All you need to do is figure out who it is that wants you and say yes!" Carly exclaimed at breakfast the next day, the scrambled eggs skewered on her fork whipping around with her excited chatter.

"There's just one problem with you plan," Rose responded, cutting a piece of pancake and stuffing it in her face. Carly opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it and scrunched her eyebrows to together in thought.

"No there isn't; it's a super simple plan." Carly finally answered.

"The problem is that I don't want to find out who the guy is or go to the dance with him. What part of 'I don't need a date' can you not comprehend Carly!" Rose was so frustrated with her friend that she left her breakfast half eaten and stormed out of the Great Hall.

"Rose!" She was halfway to her first class of the day when a distinctly male voice called out her name, stopping her progress. Annoyed already by Carly's persistence, she turned around slowly, and gave the male a withering stare. Rose recognized him, but in that moment she couldn't place his name.

"Yes?" she asked, her foul attitude showing through in her tone.

"Can I ask you something?" Rose let out a deep sigh but agreed to talk to the semi-mysterious male. He motioned to an empty classroom, which immediately raised the hairs on the back of her neck. However, not willing to put up much of a fight, Rose followed him in. The door clicked shut behind her.

* * *

Rose held her hand over the pocket containing her wand and apprehensively followed the short of stranger into the empty classroom. She stayed several steps behind him as he moved around the room lighting the candles. Finally, Rose felt her deeply repressed boldness bubbling up.

"Who are you, again?" she asked, hoping it didn't sound too rude. She watched as he flicked his wand to light the final candle then turned around, chuckling slightly to himself.

"Michael Graffer," he responded. Rose took the new information and began searching the recesses of her mind to see if she could place the name. Within a few seconds, her brain found a match.

"You're one of James' friends," Rose responded, referring to her least favorite cousin. With her realization, Rose expected him to continue on with why he had brought her into the classroom, but he remained silent. Rose's boldness had since receded and she simply quirked her eyebrow up, hoping he would understand the hint.

Rose was almost ready to write Michael off as a weirdo and just leave the classroom when he finally began to talk.

"So, as I'm sure you know –you'd have to be a complete idiot not to- that Valentine's is in two days…" he trailed off. Rose assumed he was waiting for some verification of his statement. She nodded her head and he continued, "well, rumor has it that you don't have a date for the dance."

The hairs on the back of Rose's neck as her whip-smart brain realized where the conversation was headed.

"Nope," she quickly responded, hoping to shut him down, "and I don't plan to change that fact." Before Michael could say another word, Rose turned on her heel and whisked out of the classroom.

'Worst. Week. Ever!'

* * *

Rose decided that heading straight to her first class, Transfiguration, would be the safest for her sanity as well as the wellbeing of the rest of the school. Having left breakfast a good twenty minutes before the end, she arrived at the classroom ahead of everyone else. She walked into the unlocked classroom and took her usual seat. She had momentarily debated sitting somewhere else to avoid Carly, but decided that Carly wouldn't have an opportunity to annoy her.

She was in the midst of unpacking her books and notebooks when she heard the door open. With the day that she'd had, the noise instantly put Rose on edge. As inconspicuously as possible, Rose looked over her shoulder at the new arrival. She let out a sigh of relief when she discovered that it was only Scorpius Malfoy.

"Hello Scorpius," Rose called, their more frequent interactions making her feel more comfortable in his presence.

"Hello, Rose," Scorpius responded, taking his regular spot several rows behind her. Craving the company of a sane individual, Rose stood and sat, momentarily, in the row in front of the blonde, facing back towards him.

"So, what's your opinion on this thing called Valentine's Day?" Rose asked. Scorpius rolled his eyes and Rose chuckled. She knew he hadn't been obsessed with Valentine's Day like the rest of the school. The two spent the five minutes before the rest of the students filed into the class in pleasant conversation. Rose was grateful to have him to talk to, if not, she was sure she would have lost her marbles days ago.

She made a mental note to keep up the conversation with him even after the school returned to its sanity. You never knew when you'd need a friend who wasn't so easily swept up in the moment.

* * *

What had started out as the worst day of the week had slowly started turning around in class. By lunch, Rose was actually in a decent mood. However, that quickly changed as soon as she sat down at the Ravenclaw table. She was just about to start gathering food to eat when Michael Graffer walked up to her.

"What do you want, Michael?" Rose asked, reaching across the table for a couple slices of bread. She did not have the time of patients for an ambush.

"Just thought I'd give you another opportunity to respond to my request. You know, now that you've had some time to think it over." If Rose hadn't been so composed, she would have turned around and clocked him. Some people should really learn the definition of 'no'.

"Nothing has changed since this morning, and nothing will change before Friday so you can stop wasting your time." Rose returned to her ministrations. However, Michael didn't leave.

"You waiting for anything in particular?" Rose asked. She hoped he would leave before Carly arrived and started making a big deal about it. That was the last thing Rose needed right now.

"Just an answer to my question." Rose gripped her wand.

"What question?" a high-pitched voice asked. Rose's heart sank. She so didn't need this right now.

"Oh, I just asked Rose here to go to the dance with me and she's being stubborn about it." Rose didn't have to see Carly's face to know the expression of pure joy on it.

"Is she now," Carly inquired, taking her usual spot beside Rose, "don't worry Michael, I'll work on her. She'll definitely be up for going to the dance with you by Friday." With Carly's assurance, Michael turned and left.

Rose turned to her friend.

"Not going to happen," Rose stated. She then stood from the table, her lunch forgotten, and headed to the library. At this moment, being anywhere near Carly would only be extremely terrible for her.

* * *

By the end of Wednesday, Rose was seriously considering going into the library and researching bad luck curses. It was beginning to appear as if someone had cast one on her. It seemed that everything that could go wrong did. The school went crazy; someone started sending her mushy poems; Carly discovered the mushy poems; some guy began stalking her to ask her to the dance; and Carly discovered that. Once the library closed, Rose's only sanctuary was in her room, with her bed curtains magically sealed and silenced.

That was where she had escaped to after dinner having successfully alluded both Carly and Michael. She knew Carly was currently outside her bed curtains, attempting to get in and 'discuss things' with Rose. However, Rose was so done with Carly that if she'd allowed her friend in, the dark haired girl might not have survived long. Instead, she sat atop her bed, her potions textbook open as she busily finished her essay on what she referred to as 'Alice potions' –those that could shrink and expand.

She reached into her bag to grab her erasing quill to fix a grammatical mistake she'd notice, when her hand contacted a small piece of parchment that she was sure she hadn't left in there. She pulled it out, in her gut knowing what it was.

It was yet another poem written in particularly elegant script.

_The lily has a smooth stalk,_

_Will never hurt your hand;_

_But the rose upon her brier_

_Is the lady of the land_

_There's sweetness in our apple tree,_

_And profit in the corn;_

_But lady of all beauty,_

_Is a rose upon a thorn_

_When with moss and honey,_

_She tips her bending brier;_

_And half unfolds her glowing heart,_

_She sets the world on fire_

When Michael had first begun to ask her out that morning, Rose had feared that the poems, which were actually quite lovely and she enjoyed, were written by him. However, their interactions throughout the rest of the day made her believe he wasn't. upon reading this third poem, Rose knew for sure. Whoever was giving her these poems had more depth and a greater breadth of emotion than Michael could ever conceive of having.

She gently folded the piece of paper up and slid it into her side table with the other two and her most precious keepsakes. Maybe, if whoever was writing her poems asked her to dance, she would consider going and, maybe, but that was a big maybe, not find this holiday so vile and repulsive.

* * *

_To be continued_

* * *

_**A/N: **__Review and let me know what you thought! Poem by Christina Rossetti. _


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